27/9/2015

The woman of the house has written a book. She expects me to read it. I cleverly spilled a glass of vegetable juice on it. She rolled her eyes and told me to start eating some real food which I wouldn’t spill on her book or on her. I reminded her of the time her kebabs fell on her dress. Hehehe. She thought I was there. I wasn’t. It’s in her book. A fan told me.

28/9/2015

Last night in her sleep the woman of the house asked me if she’s funny. I told her she’s hilarious when she’s talking to her mother. She sulked. I have no idea why. In the morning she told me she was referring to her book. We’ve been married so many years and still she expects me to read a book. I blame it on my mother-in-law. She has a strange sense of humour. My mother-in-law, that is, not the woman of the house. The baby has the greatest sense of humour here.

29/9/2015

What’s with all the diary entries? Why can’t she just do a compilation of jokes like that Khushi Singh used to do? That’s a book I could have read. I tried reading THE book, but this daily entry thing terrifies me.

30/9/2015

Hey, I can be funny about the woman of the house too. Like what’s this business she runs? More like she runs away from it. Hahaha. And it’s not like she can run. You should see her on the beach. Except that one time she chased these guys who were passing comments. She should have called me, I would have shown them a thing or two. I can hang upside down from balconies. I do it every time there’s a crisis at home and I’m needed.

1/10/2015

I don’t know who the woman of the house is more troubled by, the boy or the mother-in-law. Both of them do inappropriate things. He makes her go on crazy adventures, and she redoes all the paintings when she’s been summoned to help with something else. The woman doesn’t count on me much for anything except to be glued to my iPad. Just as well. I’m still struggling with Angry Birds, at which my son says, oh dad, so last decade.

2/10/2015

For some reason I am the butt of all her jokes. She went on stage and said, ‘Our little satellite reached Mars because it was called MOM. If it was called DAD, it would still be circling the Earth, but not willing to ask for directions.’ I’ve been asking her for the number of the dad who barged in on the school moms’ WhatsApp group, but she refuses to give it to me.

3/10/2015

Why why why is the woman of the house washing dirty linen in public? Why do I come out sounding as an oaf who might love his wife and children, yes, but doesn’t seem to care for anything in the house, really, busy only with his movies, iPad, and strange muscle-building diet?

4/10/2015

So this fan of mine tells me the woman of the house has written a book that’s Helen Fielding meets PG Wodehouse. Who are they? I’ve never seen their movies

5/10/2015

OK, I finally found out what the term prodigal son means. But why does she call him the prodigal son? If anything, I am the prodigal son. Or… wait. Is she referring to me after all?

6/10/2015

This is it. Why why why is that incident about my asking my wife to unbutton my jeans on the fashion ramp in this book? She actually had to go to the police station because I asked her to do it, and there I was thinking she was all turned on by the idea. Turns out it was nothing of the sort. She was reluctant. RELUCTANT.

7/10/2015

Also, what’s with the phone survey that shows bachelors as the happiest people? Did I make a mistake somewhere?

8/10/2015

She said my baby has ‘genetically made-for-karate hands’. I know what ‘genetically’ means.

9/10/2015

She said she has two German Shepherds at home. We do? Where are they?

10/10/2015

But she’s right about annoying WhatsApp messages when hungover on a Sunday morning.

(This monthly column helps you talk about a book without having to read it.)

Arunava Sinha translates classic, contemporary Bengali fiction, non-fiction into English; @arunava

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